


Humiliation

by jfcmartin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, M/M, Teenlock, ballet!lock, rugby!john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4559898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jfcmartin/pseuds/jfcmartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian asked Sherlock on a date as a joke, leaving Sherlock all alone in a restaurant. At least someone was there accompany him instead.</p><p>Based off <a href="http://likehemmins.tumblr.com/post/121044132161/imagine-that-youve-been-stood-up-by-your-douche">this</a> post.</p><p>
  <a href="http://theworldsonly.tumblr.com/">My hella amazing beta reader</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humiliation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! As usual, I'm making a fic based of another Tumblr post. I have 0% originality and I've always wanted to see fics out of cute tumblr stuff so here it is I guess.
> 
> As usual nothing belongs to me and I hope you like it!

Sherlock was growing anxious as he sat on the cushioned chair in the restaurant. He was too nervous to even remember the name. He wore a white buttoned up shirt with teal stripes, grey trousers, and dress shoes. His hair was all over the place—his signature look—but the people staring at him and whispering remarks about him made him feel even worse. He cursed under his breath that he even bothered to show up in the first place.

"Would you like to order now, sir?" a uniformed waitress asked, holding a notepad and a purple pen. It was her fourth time to ask him the same question.

"No, I'm fine. He’s just running late," Sherlock snapped. She nodded and proceeded to the table across from his. He chewed on his nailed and tapped his feet gently. He checked his watch for what seemed to be the billionth time. It was 8:37 PM.

He sat beside a glass window, staring outside as people walked past him either talking to someone on the phone or walking with their friends. Some even watched him sitting there, alone and miserable.

It was unfortunate that he hadn’t brought his phone. There was nothing to use to entertain himself but the glass of iced water melting in front of him. He ran his finger over the surface and caught the dewdrops forming on it. He didn't bother drinking it.

Agreeing to have a date with Sebastian Moran was one of the worst mistakes in Sherlock's life. He had been so ecstatic that a popular football player like Sebastian would ever consider dating a ballet dancer like him that he hadn’t even thought about it before accepting. He sort of dove into the idea and was lured into his trap.

Maybe it was Jim's idea. He was Sebastian's best friend. Jim would tease him all the time, call him names, and shove him against the lockers. There was never an instant where Sherlock would see Jim and not walk away injured.

He should've connected the pieces sooner.

_"Hey, Sherlock!" Sebastian called before he could open the cafeteria doors. Sherlock winced and screw his eyes shut, bracing himself for whatever Jim and Sebastian had in store for him. He jumped when Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and turned around, placing both hands on his face to protect himself._

_Sebastian chuckled and said, "Hey, its fine! I won't hurt you. I'm just here to say sorry."_

_Sherlock didn't give in. Sebastian rolled his eyes and gently pried Sherlock's hands away from his face. His eyes widened and met Sebastian's soft ones. It was all too real that he stood face to face with him. No violence, no pain, no suffering. They were like that for a few minutes, his wrists still in Sebastian's grasp._

_Sebastian cleared his throat and said, "Look. I sincerely feel terrible for what we've done to you. I wanna make it up to you, you know?" He let go of Sherlock's wrists and placed his hands into his pockets. "What do you say?"_

_Sherlock didn't reply. His mouth was too dry and his brain was trying to process everything. Is it true? Where's Jim?_

_"I—I don't know," Sherlock stuttered. He fiddled with his fingers behind his back._

_"How about a date?" Sebastian asked, smiling sweetly._

_"A d-date?" Sherlock sputtered._

_"Come on Sherlock, please? I promise I won't screw it up this time," he pleaded, putting his hands together and pouted._

_He couldn't think of anything else to say so he asked, "Where's Jim?"_

_Sebastian replied, "Oh, he's sick today. But he also said he wanted to say sorry! He even wanted to take us for ice cream on Wednesday!"_

_"Really?" Sherlock asked, furrowing his eyebrows._

_"Yeah! But I still wanna take you out on a date, Sherlock. I'm sorry if this is the worst time to say this, but I've always had this huge crush on you."_

_Sherlock's ears turned pink and his eyes grew bigger, if that were possible. "W-what?"_

_Sebastian smiled. "Dunno. You're the cutest dancer in ballet class. If it weren't for Jim, I would've asked you out sooner."_

_Sherlock could feel his face heating up. "Are you serious?"_

_"Yes! Please, Sherlock. I wanna make things right with you!"_

_"Okay," Sherlock replied softly, lowering his head._

_"Hmm?" Sebastian brought his ear closer to him._

_"Yes! I'll go on a date with you!" Sherlock repeated, louder than he expected. He was so lucky that no one was in the hallway._

_Sebastian giggled and hugged Sherlock on the waist, lifting him a few feet from the ground. He shrieked and slapped his hand on his mouth._

_"Thank you so much, Sherlock." He pecked him on the cheek and said, "Let's meet up after school to talk about it, okay?" He started to walk away backwards. He turned his back to him and shouted, "See you later, sweetie!"_

_Sherlock remained motionless where he stood, bringing his hand on his cheek where Sebastian kissed just a few seconds ago._

He was going to cry. I was so stupid, he thought. He pounded his fist on his forehead and more people started to watch him do it.

The woman beside him tapped his shoulder and whispered, "I'm so sorry, sweetie. Do you want me to get you anything?" He shook his head, like a child lost in the mall. His eyes were starting to tear up. He took labored breaths and tried to stop himself from crying.

He was about to stand up when a boy sat across from him and said, "Sorry I'm late, dear. Traffic was intense!" He leaned in closer and whispered, "John. Nice too meet you." He took Sherlock's hand and shook it gently.

"Sherlock," he murmured. "I was just out to buy some crisps for my rugby game tomorrow"—he lifted his sling bag—"and I saw you were sitting all by yourself through the window." He tapped on the glass beside him.

"Thanks," Sherlock squeaked. He rubbed his eyes and sniffled.

"Whoever did this to you was a sore arse," he chuckled. "What's his name? If you don't mind me asking."

"Sebastian," he replied. He was so mesmerized by the boy in front of him that he’d almost forgot Sebastian's name. John’s eyes were strikingly blue, and his blond hair appeared soft and neat.

"Well Sebastian must be a complete idiot leaving someone as gorgeous as you," John remarked. Sherlock blushed. He was nowhere near John's appearance. His stance was authoritative but his eyes were kind and thoughtful. Even if he wore a cream knitted jumper and trousers, he was more attractive than all the boys he met in his whole life. It was a shame he wasn't in his school's rugby team.

"D'you wanna eat?" John asked as he shot his hand up to call a waiter.

Sherlock was about to say no but his stomach grumbled loudly. He wrapped his arms around it and winced.

John smirked and nodded.

"Hey! It’s nice of you to finally show up," the waitress said. Sherlock wanted to push her away when she added, "Sherlock’s been here for the past hour!"

His 'date' said, "I know, I'm so sorry, dear," and he took Sherlock's hand once more and placed a gentle kiss on his hand.

"Aww, that's so sweet!" She gave both of them a menu and said, "Tell me when you're ready!" She walked off a little ways to give them time to look the menu over.

"Sure," John replied half-heartedly, watching Sherlock flip through the menu. He could feel his eyes bore through him. He chose the first thing he saw on the pasta section.

"I'll get spaghetti and meatballs," Sherlock said, his voice almost faltering at the end.

"Okay! I'll get that too. Anything else?" John said, turning his head to find the waitress. He shook his head in response. When she arrived, she took their orders and told them to wait for ten minutes.

They chatted while waiting for their food to come. Sherlock discovered that John lived in the next neighborhood from him. He was the star player in his rugby team. He wanted to join the army after he graduates. John didn't have to tell him those things; Sherlock saw all the information he needed.

"How did you know?" John asked amusingly.

"Well, I’ve never seen you around here before, so you must be from somewhere else. You wouldn't take the initiative to buy snacks for your team if you weren't holding a reputation. I would say you were the least talented in the team, but your posture and built says you're more than that. You have an army badge stitched on your sling bag. Is it from your father?" he asked.

"Brilliant," John whispered. He watched him like a beautiful sculpture in a museum. Sherlock lost all the confidence he built and shrunk back to a stuttering mess.

"T-thank you. No one says that to me," Sherlock said as the waitress brought their food and placed them on the table.

"Enjoy your meal!" she pipped before she left.

"Why? What do they normally say?" he asked, lifting his fork and twirled pasta onto it.

"Piss off," he shrugged and took his own fork and ate his food. John grinned.

They finished their meal in silence. Sherlock would take quick glances at John, and he could feel John doing the same thing to him. He tried his best to eat gracefully. He avoided making slurping noises or chew loudly.

When they both finished, John called the waitress to give them the bill. Sherlock reached for his wallet from his pockets but John stopped him.

"It’s on me," John reassured him.

"But—"

"No," John interrupted. Sherlock whimpered as John took the bill and placed twenty pounds on the tray. "Let’s go?"

Sherlock nodded and they both got up. He felt awkward as he realized he was almost half a foot taller than John, but John just shrugged it off. They made their way towards the door and John opened it for him, gesturing him to go out first. He nodded bashfully and walked out with John right behind him.

They started to walk to the left. Sherlock didn't know what to say. Should he say thank you? Should he ask for his number or something?

"Hey, Sherlock," John started. Sherlock met John's eyes and raised his brows questioningly. "I had a fantastic evening."

Sherlock could feel his face turning red for what seemed to be the fifth time this evening. "Me too," was all he could say.

"I wanna ask you out on a real date, you know? I don't want our only date to be because some douche left you behind."

He took his phone and gave it to Sherlock. It was opened to add a new contact. Sherlock wrote his name and his phone number. He returned it to John, and John sent a text message to him.

"D'you want me to add my phone number in your phone?" he offered.

"I left it at home," Sherlock confessed.

John nodded. "Okay then. It was nice to meet you, Sherlock. I expect that we see each other more often, yeah?"

Sherlock nodded. He hesitated for a moment, calculating what to do next. He sighed and decided to give in to his thoughts. He leaned in and planted a kiss on John's lips. He regretted his boldness instantly and pulled away frantically, saying, "I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking and I—"

John rolled his eyes and grabbed the back of his neck, silencing him with his lips. Sherlock squeaked at first, but then he started to melt into it. And yes, people were watching him again. But this time, he didn't care anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> So? Tell me watcha think! Kudos and comments for a virtual hug :3


End file.
